Drawn are battle lines
on helms of your convictions
that never will break chains of reasoning
You so carefully wrought on words
of Your People,
Others – as usual are wrong!
So come this fall’s moonless night,
wars will rage as self-reflections malinger
by virtue of that all-encompassed
righteousness flowing through veins
blessed by Your one true God,
A false Prophet – Others always had.
And Heavens will stand mum witness
while rivers of decay that run forever
unbiased will flood both your homes.